Large lecture hall classes always feel a bit impersonal. There is also something a little bit unsettling about 200 blank faces looking back at you on the first day of the semester. Intellectually I know my nerves will calm and, though I fancy myself an intellectual person, in this moment I am a creature of instincts. Of anxiety. I ran my fingers through my own hair as I pretended to look at my computer to avoid eye contact with anyone. Then the clock hit 1 pm and it was time to start. With only a single deep breath as preparation I begin:
"Good afternoon everyone" I say in the most confident voice I could muster. Most of the voices get quiet and all the faces turn forward toward me, nary a smile in the bunch. Part of me understands why their faces are blank, what do they have to smile about? But another part of me just needs to see some expression of human approval to ease my nerves a bit. "Do they think I'm an idiot?", "Will they respect me at all?", "Do they somehow know my insecurities and weaknesses?". Each of these thoughts take turns intruding on my ability to focus on what I'm doing.
"Is the mic working? Can everyone hear me in the back?" I ask knowing it is working but for some reason their nods make this feel more like a conversation and less like I'm on display. "Welcome to Psych 101, I hope you're all as excited as I am for this class. I think you'll enjoy this course because no matter who you are or what your career plans are, you might learn something that you can apply directly to your own life". The anxiety eases as I get into it. "We're going to cover topics like brain development, relationships, cognition and perception, and much more," I never get the look of intrigue that I expect here but I truly believed in the real life usefulness of the class and have worked hard to shape the curriculum as such. "Office hours will be the hour right before class, so if you need help on assignments or have any questions for me, feel free to drop by," I say even though every professor knows that office hours are rarely if ever attended.
The rest of the class was spent going over the syllabus, assignments, expectations and so on. I dismiss everyone early and begin to pack up my bag. It isn't uncommon for students to talk to me after class especially on the first day. It is a 100 level class so there are Freshman who haven't grown out of their teacher's pet phase. After a few awkward introductions there was one student left. "Hi, what's up?" I say not yet looking up to make eye contact. "Hey... um, I was looking through the book, are we going to be covering the psychology of sex? I want to be a sex therapist" This actually isn't an uncommon thing to hear. Maybe it's cliche but there are definitely individuals who embrace their sexuality with the new found freedom of college. Stereotypically, they express this through random hookups and party culture but quite a few take an academic approach.
I look up and immediately notice that she is wearing lipstick. It was the perfect shade of red to compliment her caramel skin and shining dark hair. Girls wearing lipstick has always made me a little crazy and I feel my body reacting immediately as my brow is wet from sweat and I feel movement underneath my slacks. Suddenly stricken with an inability to be subtle, I shake my head for a moment as if to try to empty it of inappropriate thoughts. "Ummm...Very little actually. There's some stuff about the sexual response cycle and the brain.. Uh, some stuff about relationships.." She interrupts me "Don't you do sex research?" This catches me more off-guard than the question about sex therapy. Students usually don't even realize I do research and very rarely do they know what kind. "Uh yeah a little bit but I try not to bore everyone in class with my research. After you take this class you'll be able to take the Human Sexuality course" I say. "That's too bad. I guess I'll have to wait." She lingers for a moment which makes me self-conscious and the thoughts come back "Was I still staring? She can read you like a book. Stop being creepy," I feel my face get red. "See you later Dr. Thomas" She starts to walk away but turns back "I'm Cammy, by the way," before walking away. "Nice to meet you" I say after her sneaking a few peeks at her as she left.
I'd be lying if I said the encounter didn't rattle me a little bit for the next few days. I've always had this irrational fear people can read my secret thoughts, insecurities, and desires and something about the interaction with Cammy made me feel vulnerable in that way. Beyond just her noticing me get red when I saw her. I couldn't put my finger on it. I just felt exposed.
The next class day I am more focused than usual, writing quite a bit of a manuscript before the clock hit noon. Technically this was the beginning of my office hours but I don't bother opening my door as I didn't expect any students to come by after one day of class. As I'm working, I hear a knock and look at the time: 12:36 pm. I assume it is a colleague and don't bother looking up from my computer "Come on in," I say casually. In walks Cammy wearing a black skirt and red tank-top with lipstick to match. Again I'm fixated on her lips but I use what is left of my willpower to try to maintain composure.
"Hey professor, I was just wondering if you were looking for a research assistant or someone to work in your lab" she says and sits down in the chair across the desk from me. "I always like to support undergraduate students doing research" the nerdy research & mentor side of me takes over and it gets easier to avoid inappropriate thoughts. "What kinds of things are you interested in researching about," I ask. "Well, what I'm most interested in are kinks," she replies. I pause thinking she'll go on but doesn't. "Kinks. Ok what about them?" I ask trying to think of ways to get her to take the topic and think about it from a research perspective. "Well... I guess like the origin of kinks, where they come from, why some people develop certain kinks. Like how come you became a sub versus me becoming a domme"
My face goes from a little red to bright crimson. "I'm sorry what?" My mind starts racing and any hope of avoiding the sexual thoughts is erased. She smirks coyly at me. "Come on professor. Don't act like you didn't notice that we have chemistry together, dommes and subs just find each other, you know?" she leans forward and I see that her breasts are larger than I expected for her skinny frame. By now I'm really sweaty and I can feel my cock springing to attention under my slacks. "I think this conversation is getting a little inappropriate Cammy," I'm able to summon enough willpower to say. Cammy only gets closer "And this bothers you?" she smiles as if she can see past the professional facade into my desires. "I think you should head to class," I say not answering her question. She is unfooled. "Oh come on. Don't act like I can't see what's going on down there. Go on touch it" She says as my face fills with panic and my willpower drains. "I-I uh" Before I can finish she includes additional instructions "Over your pants. Rub your cock over your pants. Just because a pretty girl said so."
At this point my moral compass has left along with any semblance of professionalism I had left and without looking away from her I feel my hand, almost involuntarily, touch myself over my pants. "That's it, doesn't it feel good to give up all control?" She smiles knowing my answer. I start to rub myself a little bit harder as my cock throbs wanting more "Yes... it really does." She bites her lip and walks behind me to touch my shoulders making my body shiver. She leans forward and whispers into my ear "You say 'yes mistress' when I ask you a question. Do you understand?" I nod my head as I stroke "yes mistress" I reply obediently. A rush of pleasure was sent through my body as I said the words. The sheer ecstasy of giving in to my desires and giving in to her demands was an incredible rush. I start to stroke harder and lose control over the logic centers in my brain "Can I? Can we?" is all I can muster to say. She laughs and turns around my swivel chair to face her again. She starts to bend as if to get on her knees but then stops and looks up at me. "Just keep stroking for me" she says biting her lip watching me lose control.
"In fact," a diabolical look comes across her face "Since you were trying to pretend that you weren't going to submit to me, I think I should punish you a little," The panic creeps back in "What do you mean...mistress?" she laughs at me as I desperately tack mistress onto the end of my sentence to try to appease her. "Maybe I shouldn't let you cum," she says putting her finger to her chin and looking up as if she's contemplating. "No" my voice involuntarily leaks out and I can feel my face getting red in extreme embarrassment. "No huh? Well normally I don't take such negative feedback but I have an idea. I'll let you cum on one condition," she says a devilish look still on her face. "Anything," I say still stroking assuming she wants a grade or money or a favor of some kind. "You are only allowed to cum, if you do it right here in your pants," she starts to laugh as my face gets so red it radiates heat like a sunburn.
I sober up for just a moment "I can't do that. No I can't," I protest weakly. "Then don't cum, it is your choice," she says leaning close to my face. "Only 5 minutes until class starts. Time to make a decision," She says her lips inches from mine. My body begins to answer for me as I feel the bodily contractions of orgasm drawing near. "Oh God," is all I'm able to say as I feel the warmth fill my pants. My body writhes with each spasm and more cum shoots out. "That's it... That's what mistress wants to see," she says still inches from my face. The orgasm lasts for what feels like a minute and a half and when it is over I start to breath heavily and lean back in my chair. "Oh my God," Cammy says putting her hand on her mouth in genuine surprise. I look down and realize the stain in my pants is the circumference of a baseball. "There's no hiding that," Cammy laughs harder as I look in terror knowing class is about to start. "Now say 'thank you mistress'" She says grabbing her backpack. I keep looking at the massive stain on my slacks. "Thank you mistress," I say as she walks out of my office. I sit for a moment with my head in my hands. I know I should feel shame or remorse but all I can feel is excitement and delight and a little bit of fear. I pick up my laptop bag and swing it over my shoulder in a way that covers the front of my pants. I take a deep breath and walk to class.